


doubt truth to be a liar

by iwritetrash



Series: all that lives must die [4]
Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: (as per usual), Angst, Bisexual Wilhelmina, Engagement, F/F, Florence's POV, Funeral, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Infidelity, Introspection, Lesbian Florence, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, No Dialogue, Period Typical Attitudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 20:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13279662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwritetrash/pseuds/iwritetrash
Summary: doubt truth to be a liar,but never doubt i love





	doubt truth to be a liar

**Author's Note:**

> damn it took me a long time to get to grips with florence's pov but i guess that's what happens when you write from the perspective of a character who has all of 30 seconds of screen time...
> 
> also i was going for irony with the title/summary, but i'm not sure if that comes across, so here i am, telling you it's ironic... 
> 
> here we go again for round 4 of all that lives must die

Florence is not interested in finding a husband. She has never been interested in such matters, not even as a young girl listening to tales of handsome princes and gallant heroes. The whole affair seemed really rather tiring, if she is being perfectly honest.

She is only 16, and yet her mother is already quite set on finding her a husband. Florence suspects that her mother’s eagerness to see her married is a result of the likelihood that her eldest brother will not want to care for her once their father passes.

So Florence is forced into ridiculous corsets and made to parade around at balls, to fill her dance card with eligible bachelors and make tedious conversation with men who cannot seem to think of one interesting thing to say. It seems quite impossible that she will ever find a man who she can tolerate for longer than a single dance, let alone the rest of her life. 

~

By the time she is eighteen her mother is beginning to grow anxious. Despite now being of the right age, Florence has yet to show even the slightest of inclinations towards a single one of her suitors, which is very peculiar for a girl of her age. They are all rich, charming, reasonably handsome, and yet not a single one takes her fancy. She finds them rather boring, in all honesty, and she knows each of them is only interested in her because of her substantial dowry.

Her mother tells her she is foolish to hope for the perfect man, but Florence is adamant in refusing to accept anything less than love. If she has the pick of the bunch, then she will certainly pick wisely.

~

When she is 19, Wilhelmina pokes fun at her over tea, explaining how she would be quite overjoyed to have men falling at her feet.

Florence tells her it is not the same when the men are begging for the money and not for her love.

~

She meets Edward Drummond when she is 23 and beginning to despair of finding a suitable husband before she becomes an old maid. Practicality forces her to lower her expectations, since it seems true love is not likely to strike her in a convenient time frame; her mother fills her head with constant reminders of the ticking clock, until she is forced to settle for the best she can find.

Edward is, admittedly, incredibly handsome, and she believes, with time, that she might come to love him as she ought. He is, by no means, rich, but he has excellent prospects, which, in her opinion, brings some excitement to such a match. Were she to marry a rich gentleman, she would see nothing but embroidery hoops and piano keys to pass her days. With Edward, her life stands a chance of holding some challenge, which might distract her from the tedious monotony of her days as they are now.

Florence’s father frowns when she mentions that she has taken an interest in the Edward, instead of some of her richer suitors, but dares not stop her. If Florence waits any longer to begin a courtship she may be left with no husband at all, and if Edward can support her then he may have to suffice.

~

In truth, Florence is not attracted to Edward, despite his good looks, but she finds him quite charming, and certainly more agreeable than any other man she has met since she first began meeting suitors, and he has a wonderful humour which she finds rather endearing. She could, at the very least, enjoy having him for a husband, even if she does not love him.

That is why she accepts his proposal, when he offers one, after a year or so of courtship. The ring he gives her is relatively simple, but really quite charming: a silver band shaped into a love knot. She bites back a laugh at the symbol; she is anything but in love with Edward Drummond, but she is not about to admit that to him.

~

The process of planning a wedding is truly quite tedious, Florence finds, and she becomes rather eager to get the whole affair finished with as soon as possible. Edward is being really rather unhelpful, having suddenly become somewhat reluctant to set a date for the wedding, postponing that which Florence would like to do as quickly as possible.

She has her suspicions regarding his sudden emotional distance, but she does not dare voice them to a soul, for fear that they will tell her to end the engagement. Florence does not have the energy to endure this whole process again, and she would much rather keep the fiancé that she has, even if he is seemingly entirely unavailable.

~

Edward is in love with someone else. Of that she is quite certain.

It is a pity that he does not love her, but perhaps that is not the worst thing, she decides. After all, she does not love him. This has, from the beginning, been a marriage of convenience for them both: Edward wishes to enter into the upper classes, and Florence wishes to escape from their confinement.

What she cannot discern, however, is who it is that he is in love with. Surely if it is another woman he loves, he might have spoken with Florence and asked that the engagement be ended so that he might marry her instead. Edward does not seem the type to keep a mistress, or to go behind Florence’s back.

She wonders, therefore, if he is one of the few afflicted with interest in their own sex. She, herself, has been contemplating such desires as of late, and finds it rather reasonable to assume, based on apparent Edward’s lack of romantic affection for her, that he may share the same fate.

It is certainly worth considering, she muses.

~

Florence and Edward grow closer as their engagement continues, and she finds she quite admires the man. His progression from a family of bankers to the Prime Minister’s secretary is rather impressive, and his ambitions are limitless. She still does not love him, but she supposes that may never come. Her interests these days seem to lie with her own sex anyway.

Edward has become rather a good friend of hers, a small reassurance that her marriage will, at the very least, be tolerable, and he has finally agreed to a time frame for the wedding, though she can tell it inconveniences him, and there’s _something else_ in his eyes when he finally says yes. He seems almost heartbroken.

It would be improper of Florence to tell him that he is welcome to take a lover, and incredibly presumptuous, and she fears Edward might abandon her altogether if she does, and yet she wishes to console him. Edward can be quite rash, if the stories are true, and she is beginning to worry that calling off the engagement is a very real prospect in his mind.

~

When Edward goes away to Scotland, he returns a changed man. Florence can’t put her finger on what it is, he seems both happier and sadder at the same time, as though a weight has been lifted from his shoulders, only to be replaced with another.

It takes her a while to realise that perhaps this means there has been some development in the affair she suspects he is having. He will almost certainly try to break off the engagement then, she thinks. That must be what sits so heavily in his mind.

Well, if it comes to that, then she will make her best efforts to dissuade him.

~

It does not come to that.

Edward is shot three days later, and her world falls to pieces.

She hadn’t loved him, at least not in the way she perhaps ought to, but he had grown to be a true friend, and had proven himself repeatedly to be good, and kind, and gentle, without overshadowing his passion.

Edward’s death also signifies the loss of her solid chance at some form of freedom. Edward had always implied that she would not be forced to bend to his every whim and will, a quality which was rather difficult to find in a husband. Men wanted wives who were seen, and not heard, who did the housework and prepared their meals, who raised their children and satisfied their sexual desires, all without a single protest. Florence had rather hoped she had escaped such a dreadful fate in finding Edward, and yet she was now plunged back into the very position she was in before they met, but much worse for wear.

~

They find a letter on Edward’s body, from a man named Alfred, arranging plans to meet that evening, supposedly to remedy a previous argument. Edward’s lover, no doubt. She does not voice her suspicions; to tarnish Edward’s reputation now as he lies in his grave is absolutely unthinkable. The name, she believes, has come up in conversation several times, always with carefully restrained smiles. It’s rather clear to see, now that she thinks about it.

She wonders if Alfred has been told the news, and how soon he heard. Did he wait for Edward for hours, wondering if he might come? How long had the poor man stewed in his resentment before he learned of Edward’s untimely death? Did he love Edward as much as her fiancé seemed to love him? If this carefully restrained letter of apology is anything to go by, she suspects so.

Her eyes play over the ending: _Yours, Alfred_.

He used his Christian name, and yet he addressed Edward simply as ‘Drummond’. It seems like a gesture, if nothing else; an apology, a plea even, veiled behind propriety.

Perhaps she is overthinking such matters, though.

~

The funeral is dreadful, and it leaves her in floods of tears, as she is forced to accept that Edward is truly gone forever. She is left without one of her closest friends, and her one hope at an escape to something more interesting; it is as though her freedom is to be buried with him.

When the service is over, Wilhelmina approaches her, holding the arm of a man with rather striking blond hair. Florence knows from the heartbroken expression on his face who he is, before Wilhelmina even introduces him. _Alfred_.

Florence finds herself at a loss for words. What on earth can she say to the man who loved Edward and yet could not be with him, when she felt so little for him and yet was able to kiss him and hold him if she so pleased? She settles for words of comfort, but they do little good. They lead only to her bursting into tears, and Alfred holding back his own as he is led away by Wilhelmina.

His face haunts her in the small hours of the morning as she tries to sleep; the expression of pure heartbreak painted there… She wonders what it must be like to love someone that much.

~

Wilhelmina is the greatest friend Florence could have wished for as she begins the slow process of healing herself. The loss of someone so close to her is not so easy to shake off, she finds, and yet Wilhelmina is a stalwart presence throughout, coming every day that she can to take tea with Florence, and to listen to her talk, or distract her with idle chatter of her days at the palace.

One day, a few months perhaps after Edward’s death, Florence asks after Alfred. _He looked really rather upset at the funeral, I do hope he’s coping_ , Florence says, and Wilhelmina stiffens slightly. She knows, Florence realises.

Wilhelmina replies, eventually, that Alfred is struggling to recover from the loss of such a close friend, and, though Florence cares deeply about whether or not he is managing, she finds herself quite distracted by the fact that _Wilhelmina knows_.

How long has she known, Florence wonders, and how did she find out? She does not expect Wilhelmina to tell her, since such matters are incredibly personal, and yet Wilhelmina is usually so open. Her sense of loyalty to Alfred must be quite strong, she muses.

~

Florence decides to come out of mourning a little earlier than is customary. After all, she must find another husband if she does not want to become an old maid, and one cannot do so while wearing ridiculous crepe lined dresses.

It is not that she has forgotten Edward already, or that she cares so little for him that she cannot run the full course of mourning, but she really must think of herself, and of her future. It is selfish, she knows, but it is a fact of life.

She sees Wilhelmina’s face fall, and knows her thoughts are with Alfred. Florence dares not enquire after him again, desperate to know as she is. It wouldn’t be polite.

~

Florence finds, rather abruptly, that she has slowly but surely become rather taken with Wilhelmina. She can quite pinpoint what it is that has caused her sudden realisation of the fact, but as they are taking tea in the garden one day, the light hits Wilhelmina’s face just so, and Florence finds she cannot quite breathe normally.

~

Florence tells Wilhelmina the truth of her engagement a year and a half after Edward’s death. She is quite comfortable now with his absence, though it is still quite a tangible hole in her life, which remains gapingly open. Florence bites back a laugh at Wilhelmina’s shock when she mentions her suspicions that Edward had a lover.

It is only then that Wilhelmina admits that she knew of the affair, though she will not reveal the identity of Edward’s lover. No matter. Florence already knows.

She can’t help but wonder if her and Wilhelmina might pursue such an affair, but without the death and the mourning involved of that of Edward and Alfred. How does one begin such an affair? It cannot be spoken outright, as it would in a usual courtship, and yet Florence hardly has the patience for games.

She looks over at Wilhelmina, and decides that Wilhelmina must make the first move. Florence is quite sure of herself, but it seems her friend is not, so she must wait until they are _both_ ready to pursue such a relationship. In the meantime, she can certainly try her hand at subtle flirtations to see if she can speed up the process at all.

~

After an entire year of Florence wanting to tear her hair out as she and Wilhelmina play guessing games with each other, Wilhelmina kisses her, in the garden, behind a rosebush. Florence’s entire body practically vibrates with the sheer force of her relief, as her heartbeat pounds to the rhythm of _finally_.

_This_ is what she’s been waiting for, _this_ is what love feels like, _this_ is all she’s been waiting for.

There are endless complications they will both have to face, but Florence finds she no longer cares, so long as Wilhelmina will be with her.

_This is all I want_ , she whispers to Wilhelmina, _forever._

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked this part, let me know! cecelia is next and i have literally nothing to go on for her so it might take a while.... 
> 
> thanks for reading! <3


End file.
